The Crow : Angel of Death
by MDMordecai
Summary: A nurse and part-time roller-derby player is brutally murdered by a vicious street gang. One year later, she is resurrected by a mysterious crow, compelled to embark on a campaign of vengeance. However, much has changed in the city during her absence.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Rain continued to crash down on the already sodden soil. The wind howled throughout the graveyard, accompanied only by the occasional roar of thunder that would follow the sporadic flashes of lightning. The squawking of a crow interrupts the crescendo and grows louder, until the bird finally swoops down and perches atop a particular gravestone. This cenotaph is dedicated to one Angelica Freja Anderson, 1990-2015.

The crow begins squawking louder still, perhaps out of fear or a show of aggression. The ambiguity fades when the loosened earth below the grave begins to move. A small patch of soil is pushed up as a human hand appears from under the dirt, grasping at the air with stiff fingers. The crow seems unperturbed by this, continuing its unholy cacophony, but more in accord with a celebration or excitement.

The hand desperately tries to find some purchase on the waterlogged mud. An almost impossible task, but the hand is relentlessly determined. It eventually manages to get some grip on the marshy ground and begins to pull itself up over the surface. The hand is followed by a slim, delicate arm, shortly accompanied by another. Finally, a head emerges from the earth. A young woman with long, straight blonde hair, looking sickeningly pale and gasping for air, begins to look around in a panic, confused at her surroundings but relieved to be above the soil. With both arms now free, she can easily pull the rest of her body out of the tomb. Dressed only in a white gown, she shivers in the biting cold wind. Not quite able to find the strength to stand, she remains kneeling in the mud, the rain bombarding her frail body. She lets out a scream as she tries to bend her arms. It is as if her muscles have suddenly decided to grow at an unnaturally fast rate. She has experienced this feeling before, when she first woke up in her coffin. This is what had first enabled her to break free from her casket. She had hoped that would be the end of this unpleasant experience, but apparently her body was not finished yet. After a few more cries of agony the woman now realises she is able to stand. Barefoot in the mud and grass, she looks down at her hands. Blood trickles from her knuckles and fingertips, the result of scraping and punching on the coffin lid when she first awoke. She looks up to the sky and lifts her arms as if embracing the rain that is now starting to cleanse the dirt and blood from her body. She gives a wicked grin and then begins to laugh out loud.

Stumbling out of the graveyard, she slowly makes her way down to the busy high street. Barefoot in a soaking wet gown, torrential rain still gushing down, Angelica no longer feels any discomfort. This temporary peace is immediately ended by an unpleasant memory.

 _On the ground, in a dark alley. Eight men surround her with lustful eyes. One of the men, with a shaved head, is right on top of her. Another man, with long, greasy hair, pulls him back and takes his place._

Brought back into the present by the squawking of the crow, Angelica is overcome with sickness. Something is very wrong, but the crow beckons her forward and she feels compelled to follow. It guides her to a particular area of the busy street and begins to fly around in circles before resting on a lamp post. It obviously wants her to wait here for some reason.

It isn't long before she attracts the seemingly unwanted attention of a passing car. It slows down next to her and the driver sticks his face out of the window.

" Hey, you need a lift? Rain's pretty heavy."

Angelica begins walking away, completely unresponsive as if she hadn't heard a word. She doesn't want to deal with people right now, but the crow starts squawking again, almost as if it's shouting at her to do something.

Angelica reluctantly glances over to the driver and immediately gets another brief flashback. She recognises him as one of the men in her vision. His name is Steve and his passenger is Vic.

Steve is a slim, young Caucasian man in his mid-twenties. Short brown hair and blue eyes, he doesn't particularly look like your typical ne'er do well until he opens his mouth and you get a taste of his attitude. His partner in crime, Vic, is slightly smaller and stockier, shaven-headed with stubble. He is slightly more intimidating than his counterpart.

Vic notices that the girl is barefoot and wearing nothing but a white gown.

"Hey, check the feet! Think she's escaped from the loony bin," Vic states light-heartedly.

"My kinda girl! Hey, why don't you come in here and we'll ride together?" Steve asks again.

Once more she ignores him and continues walking.

"You know, you're really going to catch your death dressed like that on a night like tonight," explains Steve, who is getting increasingly impatient.

"Already done that." mutters Angelica under her breath, too quiet to be heard.

"Nothing? That's a bit rude, don't you think?" he barks aggressively.

"Ignorant cow," states Vic accusingly.

Steve brings the car ahead of Angelica and turns it slowly in front of her, blocking her path. The two men jump out of the vehicle and approach her.

"So Steve, how we gonna do this?" asks Vic as he glances over to his partner in crime.

"Get in line. She needs a real man while she's fresh," replies Steve.

"Fuck you! I'm going first this time," demands Vic.

The two men almost look like they're about to start fighting as they approach, but the slight smiles on their faces give the game away. It's all just an act to keep her distracted until they can get close enough to grab her. Vic suddenly darts behind and grabs her arms, holding them firmly behind her back. Meanwhile, Steve gets up close and personal. He brushes her hair back, away from her face and caresses her cheek.

"Pretty. You're gonna do just fine."

Vic grins and tries to get a good look at her face but can't quite manage it while holding her arms back. Both men notice Angelicas gown is soaking wet, almost transparent.

"And that's a nice bod you got there too!"

Steve begins to fondle her body and leans in closer to her breasts as both men seem to drift off into their own worlds, mesmerized by her beauty.

Angelica strategically chooses this opportunity to raise her right knee rapidly into Steve's face at full force. The unnatural power of the blow sends Steve flying back several yards, where he collapses on the ground. Vic jumps back in total disbelief, releasing her arms in the process.

"What the fu...?"

"You!" Angelica barks as she points at the dazed man.

Vic continues to edge back towards the car, knowing that he has a baseball bat on the dashboard.

"And him!" she glances over to Steve, still crumpled on the ground.

"You were both there. One year ago."

The crow swoops down and gives a pleasing squawk as if in agreement. It perches on her shoulder and seems to look into her very soul. Another flash back.

 _Angelica is on the ground, dazed and confused. Blood is trickling from a nasty gash on her head. Vic stands over her, Steve apparently having finished, stands beside his conquest. There are six other men in the background but she is unable to see their faces. There is no doubt that they play some part in this horrific event. Having satisfied himself, Vic gives her a kick to the head._

Suddenly back to the present, no time seems to have occurred during her recollection. She continues to approach Vic with growing rage.

Vic reaches into the car, quickly grabs the baseball bat and holds it in front of himself with both hands. Gaining a little new-found confidence he marches up to this frail woman, swinging at her head with full force. She dodges the clumsy attack fairly easily and stands there nonchalantly. Another swing and another easy dodge. Angelica realises that she seems to have gained remarkable agility. She is eager to test just how fast she can be, but Vic's attempts are feeble at best.

"Have you ever even used that thing before? Come on, hit me!" she goads.

Vic now tries his best in response to the taunt, anger beginning to take control. Swing after swing fails to connect. Finally Angelica grabs the bat off of him and tosses it aside. Now with only his bare fists to use, she allows him to grab her arm and then move behind her, clutching her head into a lock with his other arm. Surprised at his success, and with no clear plan, he attempts to drag her farther down the alley. Not having made any effort to resist so far, Angelica decides it is now time to dispose of this minor problem. She thrusts her elbow backwards into Vic's stomach then turns around and grabs his head, lifts him over her shoulder and sends him crashing to the ground behind her.

Gasping for breath, Vic looks wide-eyed in horror up at the woman.

"What the fuck," he gasps again, '...are you?"

Angelica's non-verbal reply is to stamp her leg down on Vic's neck, producing a sickening crack. She then casually turns her attention to Steve, who has just about recovered from his unwanted trip across the alley. The man is already looking defeated, as if he knows what's coming next.

"I guess you really are an angel," he mutters while slowly staggering towards her.

She approaches him and puts her hands on the back of his neck as if to pull his face closer for a kiss. He smiles confusedly, almost believing that she might spare his life after all. His hopes are short-lived, however, as she moves right up and level to his eyes and smiles, before quickly spinning his head around, breaking his neck.

"An avenging angel, maybe?" she quips as Steve's body falls to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sara is in a deep sleep, slumped on her bed, one arm hanging down the side. On the floor just below her arm is an empty hypodermic needle. The peaceful silence is loudly interrupted by heavy banging on the door. Sara jumps up immediately, startled and still half-dazed.

"Uhhh, who is it?" she calls nervously as she frantically gets dressed and attempts to tidy up the place, making sure to throw the needle in the trash.

"It's Angie. Can you let me in?"

Sara freezes, looking like she's just seen a ghost.

"Umm, sorry, who?"

"It's me, Angelica. Let me in and I'll explain."

It sounds like her voice, Sara thinks to herself. But it can't be. She died a year ago, to the day in fact. She was going to visit her grave later on and leave a rose. Sara spent six months mourning her best friends death. It can't be her.

She slowly approaches the door and peers through the spyhole. Nobody there, just an empty hall. Then she is almost startled to death as Angelica's face appears suddenly, right up close.

"Peekaboo!"

"But how? I mean...?" mumbles Sara.

"It's ok, I'm not a zombie or vampire or anything. At least I don't think so. Can you let me in?"

Sara unlocks the door then immediately backs away and falls onto her bed.

"It's unlocked now," she calls out anxiously.

The door swings open and Angelica enters casually. From the way she silently walks in, it almost looks like she is gliding across the room, complementing her already ghost-like appearance.

"...Ok, I know you were definitely dead," states Sara in a nervous panic. "I went to your funeral. It was an open casket. You were lying there, looking all pretty as usual."

"That would certainly explain why I woke up in a grave."

Angelica spots a newspaper and examines the date. It's exactly one year since she apparently died. She notices Sara is still looking anxious so decides to try to reassure her.

"I'm not sure why I'm back, but this crow seems to have something to do with it. It's been following me since I climbed out of my tomb. It wanted me to come here for some reason."

She points to the window where a crow is sitting on the ledge looking in.

"Do you mind?" she asks.

"Uhh, no. Be my guest..." Sara mutters.

Angelica opens the window and welcomes the crow into the room. It flies in a small, circular path around the room then perches on her shoulder.

"It's almost like it talks to me. I hear it in my head. I sometimes even see what IT sees. It seems to be guiding me to where I have to go...and what I must do."

"Normal," Sara quips sarcastically as she rubs her eyes, "man, I really need to quit."

"Ahh, yes. The needle over there in the trash. The Sara I knew would never do this," Angelica takes another look at the state of the room, "or let the place become such a dump! You used to be a clean freak!"

Sara's nervousness suddenly evaporates as she gets a little annoyed at this accusation.

"Hey! Things got tough after you...'died'. It was...depression. Then I lost my job. They shut the hospital down!"

At the mention of the hospital Angelica is hit with another flashback.

 _A sports arena. She is the 'jammer' in a roller derby game, skating around at high speed, surrounded by four other women, the 'blockers'. The match ends, her team wins...Celebrations in a locker room, then_ _out on_ _the streets with her team mates...They are off to celebrate in a local bar and encourage her to come but she has to go to work. The hospital...She worked night-shifts as a nurse..._

Back to the present again.

"I ended up getting work in this bar. That's where I met these...'people'. A bad crowd of ne'er do wells, I know that now. But they get you hooked on all kinds of stuff. They can get hold of anything. It's so fucking hard to quit once you start. Especially when you have to work there." Sara confesses, looking down at the floor, feeling ashamed like she's being told off by a headmistress.

Angelica shakes her head and tuts.

"Honestly, I'm dead for just one year and everything goes to hell!"

Sara laughs nervously.

"Well, it's good to have you back, Ange." she eventually manages to blurt out as she stands up and gives her friend a hug.

"We both worked at the hospital...and played roller derby. Flat-mates too?"

"Peas in a pod. Joined at the hip, people used to say," Sara confirms, smiling.

"Is that all they used to say about us?"

Sarah coughs, looking a little embarrassed.

"So, is this permanent? You being back?"

"No, I don't think so," says Angelica as she glares at the crow with suspicion, "I think I have a job to do. Then I go back to wherever I came from...I think!"

"You don't remember where you've been these past twelve months?" inquires Sara, curiously.

Angelica flicks on the TV and switches to the news channel.

"No memory whatsoever. It feels like I've just been unconscious for a few hours."

"And this is your handy work, I take it?", Sara nods to the TV screen where Vic and Steve's murder is being reported, "I mean, the people who killed you. You have to see justice done?"

"Something like that, yes," Angelica answers as she turns up the volume on the television. A news reporter is describing the incident...

. _...officers were called after a neighbour heard a disturbance nearby._ _From_ _her window she_ _witnessed_ _two Caucasian men harassing a woman. However, when things began to get physical the woman apparently knew how to take care of herself and ended up breaking the necks of both men, who were reported dead at the scene._ _Police are currently searching for the woman, who fled the scene, and ask anyone with information to contact them_ _. The_ _witness_ _reports her as also being Caucasian, around 5'10" with long, waist-length blonde hair..._

"Oh my god! That was you? Shit! You've changed too, then! The Angie I knew would never-".

"Yes, yes, point taken. I forgot to mention, I'm going to need a disguise."

"Ange, this is serious! You've just murdered two men!" Sara states in a panic-stricken voice.

"They were two of the men who killed me. They deserved it. There are still six more out there that I need to find," Angelica states bluntly, free of emotion.

"Don't you feel any remorse for what you did?"

Angelica looks back at the TV on which the reporter is now talking to a detective.

"I...feel...nothing."

The next morning, Angelica is sat at a dresser making some adjustments to her old roller blades. Sara enters the apartment with two bags of shopping and dumps them on her bed.

"Nice morning?" Angelica asks casually as she plays with the blades on her skates.

"Wonderful, as always," Sara replies sarcastically. "I got the hair dye you wanted. My curlers are on the dresser there."

"Thanks a million, Sara. Time for a makeover."

"There's still some of your old clothes in the closet if you haven't checked yet. I never could throw them away," Sara informs her as she reminisces briefly.

"I'll need to borrow your make-up too."

"Help yourself. But, Angie, whatever you have planned...please don't bring the cops here, OK?"

"Fear not, my little cupcake," Angelica retorts as she walks over to Sara and playfully pinches her cheek. She grabs the hair dye that was lying on the bed and examines the bottle, then grins. "No one will ever know I was here."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Angelica stands perilously close to the edge of a rooftop. She is now dressed in a large-brimmed black hat, long black dress and coat, sporting her custom-made roller blades now attached to thigh-length black boots. Her hair is also jet-black, now only shoulder-length but with long curls flowing gently in the breeze. Her face is painted white with black eye-liner and black lipstick.

She stares down at the building opposite. This is 'Penumbra', the bar that Sara works at. The crow has lead her here for some reason. After checking her watch she glances up to see Sara going into the bar.

"Off to work we go," she mutters to herself before giving a long sigh as if regretting what she's about to do.

The crow flies down to the bar entrance then darts back up, squawking all the time. This is clearly the place that she needs to enter. She quickly spins around and glides towards the edge of the roof, jumping onto a lower, neighbouring rooftop, gliding smoothly along like some dark, other-worldly, spectral entity. She cart-wheels elegantly off the edge.

Dropping down into an alleyway, landing with the grace of a world-class gymnast, she slowly looks up from her crouched landing position, hair drooping down over her face, she is now directly opposite the entrance to the bar. She gives an evil grin and skates down the alley into the main street. As she approaches the corner she grabs onto a lamp post, whizzing round in a circle before coming to a stop. She glares at the Penumbra.

The place has a trendy yet somehow seedy look to it. A shifty-looking bouncer guards the doors. It seems unlikely that he's just going to let skating goths inside, she thinks to herself. She gazes up at the roof and begins to ponder. Her thoughts are interrupted by a voice emanating from behind her.

"You're not thinkin' of goin' in there, are you?"

This is Maurice Johnson aka 'MoJo', a sixteen year old local who occasionally did minor tasks for the gang that killed her. He has a good heart but has often given in to pressure by these ruthless people and ended up working for them as a dogsbody.

Angelica spins around and glares at MoJo. She immediately gets another flashback to the night she was killed.

 _Coming home from work after doing a night-shift at the hospital, she skates to a standstill as a car suddenly thrusts forward from a side alley, blocking her path. She has to put her hands on the car to help her come to a stop. Before she can steady herself she is grabbed from behind and dragged into the alley...A gang of eight men have taken turns to_ _beat and rape her. Each of the eight faces now appear to her, crystal clear._

 _First is "Snowy", a pale white man with platinum blonde hair, long locks covered in gel. A well-groomed but frail man. Not your typical gangster._

 _Second was Gomez, Max's second in command, loosely speaking. A small Mexican man, wearing a fedora and overcoat, looking like a 1940's detective._

 _Then it was Bruno. A tall, strong Russian man, shaved head and tattoos. The most intimidating of the bunch, apart from Max. She recognises him as the bouncer at the door to the bar._

 _The fourth face is Cortez, a young Latino boy. He sees Gomez as a father figure and secretly is more loyal to him than Max. Very much a dogsbody with no leadership skills._

 _Next is Jazz, a young man of middle-eastern descent. Like Cortez, a dogsbody, and therefore the two are usually found working or relaxing together._

 _The next images were of the idiot double-act Vic and Steve. The crow had wasted no time in guiding her to those two._

 _The last face was of course, Max. A tall Jamaican man, slim but with impressive muscular arms. He has long, flowing dreadlocks down to his waist. He wore a Slash-type hat and mirrored sunglasses along with a thin, long coat and fancy gloves. Quite an eccentric man by any accounts. Always equipped with two revolvers at his side, he has almost supernaturally good aim._

 _The final vision, Max slowly raising his revolvers then glancing back and forth at each gun as if he can't decide which one to finish her off with, acting like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He opts for his preferred left hand and sends a bullet flying through the middle of her forehead..._

MoJo played no part in the debauchery but he WAS there, in the background. He looked horrified but remained idle throughout. Angelica is overcome by these memories sparked by seeing MoJo's face. They are the final memories she has of her former life, and they are not pleasant. Full of hatred, Angelica grabs MoJo by the neck and holds him up against the wall.

"You were there! You saw it!" she snarls at him.

"Wha...!" gasps Mojo, barely able to breathe.

"One year ago. A gang beat, raped and killed a woman in that alley. You saw it!"

She loosens her grip on Mojo to let him justify himself. He remembers mournfully and looks down in regret.

"There...there was nothin' I could do...nothin'. If I'd tried to stop it..."

His words are annoying but true. He couldn't prevent what happened. He is innocent, at least to a degree. Mojo seems to have changed much in the past year. No longer dressed like the typical gangsta-wannabe, he now has a degree of maturity and an air of new-found confidence. Dressed in dark colours and a long black coat, almost as if he buys his clothes from the same store as her. Perhaps he can be a useful resource...

"You know these people. You know this bar. You're going to help me...burn...it...down!"

She pulls him up to her, face to face and looks him in the eyes. It is at this moment that MoJo recognises her. He could never forget those eyes.

"It's...it's you, isn't it? Fuck, man. You died! How?!"

"Vengeance, pure and simple. This crow here brought me back," replies Angelica, waving her hand at the crow that has just swooped down and sat on top of a garbage can.

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing," she quotes. "You want to redeem yourself?"

"I think I'm way beyond redemption, lady. But I've got beef with these guys already. I wanted out after what happened to you. Max don't take kindly to people leaving."

Marvin holds up his right hand to reveal he has no index finger.

"Took off my trigger finger so I'm less of a threat and an example to others."

"Then tonight, my friend, you shall have your revenge too."

She grins mischievously.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

At the old abandoned hospital where Angelica used to work, she glides up to the main entrance. It is heavily boarded up but she amazes herself with her new found strength. She has no problem smashing her way through the barricade and into the building. The reception area is dark and empty with a touch of creepiness. Skating into the middle of the room, she holds out her arms and takes a deep breathe as if she's feeding on the energy of the place.

"Ahhh. Home away from home," she mutters to herself.

Gliding down the corridors like a black phantom, she skids to a halt outside a store room. It's locked, which is a good sign, the contents are probably still in there. Breaking down the door with no effort at all, she begins searching the shelves and medical cabinets, stopping at a certain bottle. She picks it up and grins. The label says 'Cyanide Solution'.

Back at the roof top opposite the bar, standing once more at the precipice, the gentle breeze blows through her hair, dress and coat. She somehow knows that MoJo is approaching.

"Did you do it?" she asks nonchalantly, not turning round to face him.

MoJo looks over to a rooftop adjacent to the Penumbra.

"In position and waiting for tonight's little party," he boasts confidently.

"You should go. This isn't going to be pretty," she tells him, still staring off into the distance.

"Good luck," MoJo wishes to her as he pulls the collar of his long coat up to his face, puts his hands in his pockets and inconspicuously strolls away.

"Enjoy the fireworks," Angelica whispers as she focuses on the Penumbra with a burning hatred in her eyes.

Bursting through the door onto the rooftop next to the club, Angelica stops and glares around. She spots the not-so-hidden jerry can that MoJo had obtained and left for her. She also notices the make-shift ramp he made, strategically placed at the edge of the parapet.

"Nice work, Mo. You're resourceful I'll give you that," she says to herself before skating to the far end of the roof. Jerry can in hand, she begins gliding towards the ramp, gaining tremendous speed all the time until eventually she skates up and over it. Soaring into the air, her loose coat and dress blowing in the wind, she looks almost like a monster-sized crow.

She makes it comfortably to the Penumbra's summit, landing elegantly and bending her legs. Remaining in a kneeling position for a bit of extra dramatic effect (even though no one can see her) she then rises up into a menacing stance. The fuel from the can is carefully poured out into a peculiar pattern. Peculiar, that is, until she whips out a lighter and sets the liquid ablaze. From above it can be seen as the familiar pattern of a crow. At that moment her own crow flies past, squawking with approval.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of showmanship," she proclaims to herself, admiring the burning work of art. She takes out her lipstick and the bottle of cyanide. After dipping it several times in the bottle she applies a generous amount to her lips, her undead body unaffected by the poison. After painting her tongue liberally with the deadly venom she finally gives a broad smile, then sticks her tongue out in a mocking manner.

Smashing open the door to the stairs below, she descends slowly to the building interior, continuing to pour the last of the fuel over the stairs.

The second floor hall has several doors on each side. At the far end is the door to the roof which suddenly flies off its hinges. Angelica is standing there, almost a silhouette against the bright light of a blistering inferno behind her. After another dramatic pause she begins kicking in the doors while proceeding down the hall. She notices a fire alarm on the wall and smashes the glass.

"Fire in the hold! Everybody out!" she roars as she makes her way nonchalantly down the corridor. Various prostitutes and their half-dressed clients begin emerging hurriedly from various rooms, crying and screaming with panic as they scurry along the hallway and down the stairs at the far side. Through the commotion Angelica sees who she was looking for...Sara. She had been with a client like most of the women here. Sara runs for the stairs until a hand grabs her from behind, the strength of it almost lifting her up into the air. She is dragged into one of the nearby rooms, away from the commotion.

"So this is what you've become?" bemoans Angelica as she pulls Sara closer to her.

"You! You did this, Ange? Are you crazy? We need to get out!" cries a near-hysterical Sara.

She tries to pull herself free but to no avail. Quickly resigning herself to the fact that she is completely at the mercy of her undead friend, she ceases struggling.

"How could you have fallen so far? You are unrecognisable to me."

"And you to me!" snarls Sara in a mixture of anger and terror. "Burning this place down? You don't know what you've done! You have no fucking idea of the people you're dealing with!"

"I know them better than anyone!" Angelica barks back, sounding emotional for the first time since her resurrection.

Remembering what had happened to her former room mate, Sara is overcome with guilt, immediately regretting her words.

"I'm sorry, I...We need to get out of here!" she pleads.

Angelica moves closer still, putting her arms around Sara and hugging her.

"You know I love you, Sara. I always will. I'm sorry. I'm...so...sorry."

Embracing her tightly, Angelica pushes her lips onto Sara's, giving her a long kiss of death. Her lethal tongue ensures that her victim is doomed. Sara is frozen stiff during the ordeal, completely unable to react to this unexpected situation, while Angelica continues to pull her body tight.

After being released Sara stands there breathless, looking a bit uncomfortable. She smiles fondly at Angelica before coughing. The coughing quickly escalates to desperate gasping for air and dizziness. She falls back onto Angelica, arms around her shoulders. Now a brief look of horror appears on her face which soon turns to regret, a single tear rolls down her face. One final gasp before she ceases to breathe.

Angelica continues to hold her body tightly and gently kisses the top of her head.

In the main bar, Max and his gang are sat at a table in the corner. They hear the fire alarm going off over the loud music.

"God dammit! Snowman, go shut that thing off," orders Max, "…and check upstairs."

"On it." obeys Snowy, who jumps up and dashes through the door into the small reception area. Bruno the doorman is waiting anxiously for him.

"I think that's all of them," he informs Snowy as he beckons the last of the women out of the building.

"Wait!" he shouts as Snowy begins to ascend the stairs.

"There's someone else up there. Listen!"

After a few seconds Snowy can hear it too. A hauntingly ethereal, disembodied voice echoes throughout the hall. It is a beautiful hybrid of singing and chanting, yet somehow manages to send shivers down the spines of the two men.

As the singing stops, the crackling of the fire takes over as it crawls along the hallway and approaches the top of the stairs. Neither men are too eager to venture up there and they don't need to, as Angelica comes flying down through the air and knocks both of them to the ground. Boris, being made of sterner stuff, recovers first. He realizes his handgun has fallen out of his jacket onto the floor and makes a play for it. Just as he reaches out, a big, black boot strikes his head with unbelievable force. He goes flying backwards into the wall and crumples in a heap. Angelica isn't finished with him yet though, and grabs him by the scruff of the neck, pressing him against the wall.

"Remember me? Remember what you did? Do you?! One year ago? The nurse?" Angelica rages at him.

Now covered in blood, barely alive, Boris is still as defiant as ever.

"Fuck you, bitch!" he barely manages to spit at her, completely unrepentant.

Lifting him up off the ground with her left hand on his neck, she punches her right hand completely into his chest. Boris looks down at the gaping hole in his body with utter astonishment. He tries to say something, but only blood gurgles out of his mouth. After a few short spasms his body goes limp and Angelica lets it fall, unceremoniously, to the floor. Three down, five to go.

The eaves-dropping Snowy has now started to recover and had quietly witnessed the fate of Bruno. In no fit shape to take her on, he stumbles to the door that leads back to the bar.

"What the...fuck are you? You're...you were dead. You were dead!" he cries at her.

"Oh, have a heart!" she pleads mockingly and hurls Bruno's disembowelled vascular organ at his chest.

Snowy's natural reaction is to catch the bloody mess before dropping it onto the floor in disgust.

"Oh you're fucking dead now!" he declares, his voice shaking, making his threat sound less than convincing.

He gives her one last look, shaking his head and almost muttering another 'what the..', before pushing himself through the bar door and scampering off.

"Max! She's here!" screams Snowy as he limps over to the table where his boss is sat. The rest of the patrons have now vacated the premises due to the alarm but Max and his crew are still sat at their table, albeit looking anxious and confused. The music continues to blare out but the lights are starting to flicker as the fire begins to interfere with the wiring.

"WHO is here?" Max asks as he rises from his seat, irritated at the damage being done to his business.

Before Snowy can reply, the door flings open and in glides Angelica.

"I'M here! The fire starter! One of your...victims," she announces to the room.

Max is unperturbed by her dramatic entrance.

"We're all victims in here, lady."

"You consider yourself a victim?…you certainly will be," Angelica snaps before giving her trademark grin.

This immediately gets the attention of the rest of the men at the table, Gomez, Cortez and Jazz, who are now stood up and are about to reach for their guns.

Max takes the initiative and immediately pulls out two hand guns that were concealed inside his coat. Without hesitation he begins firing in Angelicas direction as she ducks with lightning reflexes under one of the nearby tables. He continues to go overkill with the amount of bullets he's spraying, unconcerned about the damage he's doing to the place.

"Well, you are just full of anger aren't you? That's right, let it all out," whispers Angelica to herself.

Eventually Max stops firing, or rather his guns run out of ammo. He quickly reloads in one fast, flowing move like it's second nature to him and then freezes, as if he's listening for something. Silence. Max is impatient and decides to bait Angelica out.

"Did I hurt you, little girl? It's OK to cry out you know!" he taunts, trying to goad her in to replying so as to get an idea of her location.

Angelica knows what's going on and refuses to play ball. Instead she takes this moment to crawl to another table slightly nearer to the men.

Sirens can be heard coming from somewhere beyond the inferno. Gomez, Max's right hand man, orders Cortez and Jazz to leave through the back entrance.

"Max, we gotta go! This place is falling apart, and there's cops out front," shouts Gomez, slowly making his way to the back door, shotgun scanning the area should Angelica make an appearance.

"Aww, shit!...", Max exclaims as he quickly surveys the damage to the room, "this ain't over, sister. I'll be coming for you!" he roars while retreating to the back room.

"I'm counting on it." she mutters to herself.

"Snowy, pick your ass up, man. Come on!" orders Gomez as he beckons him over.

He helps the now almost unconscious Snowy to his feet. Max grabs his other arm and they all flee out the back.

Fire and police officers can be heard slowly making their way into the club. Angelica waits briefly until the coast is clear before she, too, is able to slip out the rear exit and skate off down the alley, just before the police burst into the bar.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Standing right on the edge of the hospital roof, arms folded, the crow perched on her shoulder, Angelica observes the decadent city of lights below, forever bustling with the worst aspects of life. The fire at the Penumbra still burns away in the distance. MoJo approaches.

"They're coming. You should go," she speaks into the air, not turning round to meet him.

"You sure you won't need me?" he asks, disappointedly.

"You've done enough, Mo. Thank you for everything. Now go, quick!" she orders as two cars come speeding down the road. MoJo recognises the cars as belonging to Max and immediately scurries off into the darkness.

The vehicles come hastily to a halt in the car park below. Snowy, Cortez and Jazz climb out of the first car. Gomez and Max casually stroll out of the second, their body language suggesting it's just another day at the office. All are equipped with shotguns apart from Max, who has his two trusty revolvers concealed in his coat. He scans the hospital exterior then glances up at the roof and spots his prey. He points at Angelica and howls.

"I'm coming to get you!" he taunts in a voice that would intimidate most people to the point of soiling themselves. Angelica is unperturbed by such a bland, bad guy cliché line.

"I am a spider. This hospital my web. Time to catch me some flies!" she announces to herself in a confident but slightly maniacal manner. She then suddenly disappears from view. The game is on.

Snowy leads the gang into the hospital. They move recklessly around the reception area, eager for action, with the exception of Gomez, who is a little more cautious bringing up the rear. Max remains outside, leaning against his car smoking a joint. It almost seems like he expects his crew to bring her out alive, or perhaps he simply doesn't have faith in his comrades to get the job done.

"So much for _'_ _I'm_ _coming to get you',_ " Angelica mutters condescendingly before heading to the roof access door. Time to take them out, one by one.

Cortex and Jazz return to the reception area after clearing the storage rooms and toilets. Gomez and Snowy are waiting anxiously.

"All clear," signals Cortez.

Gomez marches toward the stairs and beckons them over.

"Snowman, wait here and check the elevators."

Snowy nods obediently and calls both elevators. Only one of them is still operational. He grabs a chair, sits and waits, shotgun pointed at the doors of the still functioning one.

"Keep it stuck here when it arrives. We'll take the stairs. She ain't getting away from us," Gomez states as he leads his troupe up to the first floor.

Most of the equipment on this floor has been looted and some beds have been pulled out into the main corridor. Such an unusually deserted area creates an eerie feeling that unnerves the hunters.

"This was a hospital?" asks Cortez, "looks more like an asylum. Gives me the creeps."

"Don't be such a wuss, man," taunts Jazz as he approaches from behind and does an impression of a spider with his hand on Cortez's shoulder. "Whooooo-oooooo."

"Get off me! Asshole."

"Cut it out you pair of jokers. Listen," interupts Gomez as he begins to creep cautiously along the hall.

"We check this end of the hall first, then go back and check the other. Jazz, you watch our backs. We'll search every fucking inch of this place."

The three of them slowly make their way to the end of the hall, checking each room on the way, albeit quickly and carelessly. At the end of the hall they notice all the windows here are either open or smashed, creating a ghostly breeze in the place. Cortez begins to shiver.

"OK, this place is really giving me the fuckin' creeps now. Can we, uh, hurry this up?"

Gomez nods at him reassuringly.

"Let's check the other side, come on."

Just as they begin to retrace their steps they hear a faint, familiar, ethereal singing, seemingly coming from all around them.

The three men are back to back, looking quite comical, eyes darting all over the place trying to locate the source of the singing. It seems to be emanating from everywhere, even in their heads.

"Ok, what the fuck is going on, man?! This is really freaking me out!" screams Cortez, moving beyond panic into terror mode.

"It's kinda wiped the smile off my face too," admits the usually super-cool Jazz.

"Keep it together, girls! She's just messing with us. Must be the acoustics or some shit. Sooner or later she's gonna have to show herself. When she does...we'll have her!" Gomez reassures them, sounding much more confident than he really is.

The three poor excuses for men begin creeping slowly back up the hall. Gomez tries desperately to give the impression of a brave and fearless leader but he is obviously shaken just as much as the others. After a few uneventful minutes the men begin to regain their composure, only for the singing to start again, causing all three men to jump.

"There she goes again," sighs Jazz with a look of resignation on his face.

"Try not to piss your pants this time. Just focus!" snarls Gomez.

More unnerving chanting as the wind outside suddenly picks up and blows through the windows with force.

The three men move along at a snails pace and eventually arrive at the other end of the hall. Just the two end rooms left to check, but no one is volunteering.

"Take the left, J. Cortez, the right," orders Gomez. "I'll be right here, watching your backs."

Jazz reluctantly and extremely slowly enters the door to the left. An empty ward, only a few beds remaining, making it easy to check. Still, he doesn't exactly make it a rigorous search before heading back out.

"Ok, it's clear. She gotta be in that one," whispers Jazz as he takes a strong stance, shotgun pointing at the remaining door.

Nudged forward by Gomez, Cortez stumbles toward the door to the right, completely terrified at this point. He raises his hand to push open the door when suddenly another hand grasps his shoulder. He freezes.

"Relax, man. I'll come with you," murmurs Jazz, apparently having gained a new burst of confidence.

The two of them push open the double-doors with their shotguns, both a little more relaxed now they each have a wing man. Much like the other ward this room is virtually empty. Just a few beds, papers on the floor and broken medical supplies. A quick check and both men are very happy to be walking back out. Just as they are about to leave Gomez' horrified face suddenly appears pushed right up against one of the small windows in the doors. His eyes have been pushed right out of his head, replaced by the fingertips of Angelicas hand.

Both men jump back and begin firing. What remains of the door soon falls off its hinges, revealing the lifeless heap of Gomez' body. The woman seems to have disappeared.

"Fuck!" Cortez cries and falls to his knees, staring at Gomez's corpse.

He begins sobbing and mumbling, oblivious to his predicament. Gomez had been like a father to him. Not a particularly good father but a father none-the-less, which helped Cortez cope with life more than he realized. In a life-style where trust and loyalty would often change at the drop of a hat, these two men could always count on each other to have their back.

The normally easy-going Jazz is now for the first time looking mean and angry.

"Hey, get your shit together!" he blasts, kicking his comrade softly in the side. "I don't know about you, but I've had it with this bitch."

He unnecessarily pumps his shotgun as if it will somehow make him invincible.

"It doesn't make you look any tougher you know!" taunts Angelicas disembodied voice emanating from the stairs going up to the roof.

Cortez immediately snaps out of his slumber, a new look of sheer rage in his face. He glances around anxiously, as if he had just woken from a nightmare and found himself here. Jazz nods toward the stairs and the two men ascend fearlessly to the roof.

The roof door is kicked open, Jazz immediately pointing his gun to the left, while Cortez checks to the right. No sign of her, but the ubiquitous crow is circling up above. Jazz aims for the bird and tries to kill it.

"Don't let it distract you! That's how she...uggghhh!"

Cortez is caught in mid-sentence as Angelica grabs him from behind and lifts him up to the top of the small platform above and behind the door. Jazz swiftly turns around to find his friend subdued and being held out at arms length, dangling over the doorway. He raises his gun up at Cortez fearfully, considering a difficult choice.

"Careful, Jazzy boy. You've already lost many friends today," Angelica taunts him casually.

Jazz glares at his friend, who is now hanging like a corpse, frozen stiff with terror. She's here to kill them both anyway. If he's going to win this battle against a supernatural foe he's going to have to pay a price. At least, that's how his horrified and broken mind is now thinking.

He looks his friend in the eyes, almost tearful. They both know what's about to happen and the weary-eyed Cortez seems to have accepted it.

Two bullets break the silence, piercing right through Cortez's chest and into Angelica's torso. They both fall violently backwards off the small platform, hitting the roof surface with a heavy thud.

"Sorry, bud. Not taking any chances," Jazz mutters while staring into space, as if addressing the ghost of his ex-colleague.

Examining the two bodies until he has reassured himself that both hearts are no longer beating, a self-satisfied smile crosses his face. He giddily runs to the edge of the roof where he can see the cars down below and calls to Max, who is still leaning on his car smoking another joint.

"Hey Max! I got her! I fucking got her! The bitch is dead!"

Max raises one arm and gives the thumbs up sign. Not quite the celebration he was expecting from his boss, he can't help but feel a little hurt and under-appreciated. His spirits are raised again slightly, as Snowy appears from the hospital. Looks like they were about to flee the scene without him!

"Thought you were supposed to be guarding the elevator, you punk," mutters Jazz under his breathe.

"That's great, man! Wooooo-yeeeaaah! Now get ya ass down here to celebrate!" shouts Snowy, both arms up in the air, a few claps interspersed between his cheers.

"I got him, Clarence, I got him. Woooo!" cheers Max in a mocking manner, referencing an old film.

"What's up with you? It's over. Let's get wrecked!" Snowy responds almost disrespectfully. He quickly manages to compose himself after remembering who the boss is, his expression switching from a maniacal grin to one of utmost earnestness.

"You dumb shits just don't learn, do ya? Look at the fucking crow! That look dead to you? We need to get going, come."

Max's scepticism is proven to be justified almost immediately, as Jazz's body suddenly crashes on top of the car that he was just about to get into.

"Did she just damage another one of my cars?" Max asks calmly, not even flinching.

Snowy on the other hand, almost jumps out of his skin.

"Shit! She's still alive. Fuuuck!"

The Snowman glances up at the rooftop where Jazz had been standing just a moment earlier. He can make out a vague silhouette of a woman in black, looking all creepy and intimidating. Remembering he had a passenger, he pulls a shocked MoJo out of the back of the car and locks his arms behind him, hoping Angelica can see the hostage.

Spotting the hapless MoJo below, Angelica looks immediately concerned. This wasn't part of her plan, but there is nothing she can do for him at the moment.

"Oops, sorry Mo! Didn't see you there," she says to herself, looking sheepish.

"Gonna have to take your car then. Quick..." Max orders as he hurries over to the other vehicle, "...in case she's got a few more bodies to hurl."

Snowy forces MoJo overly-aggressively into the back of his car then climbs into the drivers seat while Max takes the passenger side.

As the car speeds off Angelica knows exactly where they are going. The crow flies up and perches on her shoulder, giving a mighty squawk as if acknowledging where she has to go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Skating up to the old sports arena where she had played many a roller derby match, Angelica is surprised to see that there isn't a greeting party waiting for her. Snowy's car is parked as close to the entrance as possible, the doors left open but the engine is dead. She skates casually up to the arena doors and pushes them open.

Like the hospital, the arena has seen better days. Out of use for many months now, it has also been looted of anything valuable, litter all over the floors, graffiti on the walls.

"I like what they've done with the place," she mutters to herself as she scans the pearls of wisdom that have been sprayed on virtually every flat surface.

Lifting herself over the turnstiles she heads straight for the main arena, guessing that is where Max has decided to have this final showdown.

She guessed right.

Gliding smoothly into the centre of the arena looking like the ghost of Christmas Goth, Angelica spots Max waiting for her dead ahead. She skids to a stop and scans the place. No sign of Snowy or MoJo.

"Where is he?" she snaps to Max, getting straight down to business.

Max has his arms crossed over his chest with his head down, his long dreadlocks flowing over his face. He remains silent.

"WHERE IS HE?!" shouts Angelica angrily as she strides towards him.

"He's alive," replies Max as he languidly looks up, hair still covering his face, arms opening wide to reveal the two revolvers gripped tightly in his gloved hands.

He slowly points them towards her, arms still held out, almost looking like a Venus fly trap opening up to catch its prey.

"Snowman! Show the lady," he barks.

Max throws his head up and back in a dramatic and somewhat pretentious manner, indicating that she should look behind and above him.

This is where the small lighting studio is situated. A large window comprising almost the entire wall oversees the arena. Snowy appears at the window and pushes a bound and gagged MoJo up against the glass.

"He was just bait. To guarantee you'd come. I knew you would anyway, but it gave the others the illusion of...safety. Gotta keep morale up, eh? You would always come, wherever we went, wouldn't you? The crow would always find us, guide you to us. That's your mission, to kill us all, right? Just me and Snowman left. So tell me. What happens after we're dead? What then?"

"That is none of your concern," Angelica states coldly, not wanting to acknowledge that it is a very good question that she doesn't quite have an answer to.

"No, I don't s'pose it is," Max responds disappointedly.

"I hear you were quite a star in here, back in the day. A fitting place to end it all, wouldn't ya say?"

"It has a certain symmetry to it, yes," Angelica admits, becoming slightly suspicious of this longer than necessary chat. "You certainly have a flare for the dramatics. Now, are you going to shut up and let me kill you? This is starting to get tedious."

"How dare you! I was trying to be all deep and philosophical," Max states sarcastically, before turning his head slightly towards the studio.

"Snowman, you done yet?"

All this time Snowy had been frantically trying to figure out the controls for the lighting. Finally some basic lights flicker on.

"Got it! They're on," Snowy's voice booms over the speakers, "You're used to being in the spotlight here, miss Angelica Andersson, super jammer of the Ravens! Lets see some of your moves," he taunts over the Tannoy.

Out of patience now, Angelica starts strolling toward Max who, oddly, just stands there nonchalantly, not even going for his guns. Just as she is within grabbing distance the main spotlight comes on at full power right in her face. Blinded, she closes her eyes tightly and staggers, disorientated. The remaining lights all slowly flicker on ridiculously bright and blinding, circling around the arena until they eventually all rest on the woman.

"Ya know, I didn't just get to rule this city simply through good old-fashioned hard work, fear and intimidation," Max explains as he removes his mirrored sunglasses. "I did it while being blind, too. You see, at first I thought I was at a severe disadvantage, but what d'ya know? I soon realized that it was true, what they say. All the other senses heighten to compensate for the loss. They all become much, much sharper. Almost superhuman. Take my hearing, for example. The slightest little sound and I know exactly...where...you are."

Max flips out his revolvers and fires both barrels straight at Angelica who is still shielding her eyes.

Despite being blinded, she reacts to the sound of gunshots by immediately dropping to the floor and scrambling desperately towards the edge of the arena, inevitably making more noise in her haste. He fires again, right where she was just a split second before. Very impressive for a blind man against a moving target, almost supernatural.

Diving over the small barrier and into the seating area, Angelica remains frozen as soon as she hits the floor. Another two shots pierce through the barrier just above her, and then...silence.

Snowy has been watching the show through the window above.

"She went to your right, in the stands," he reports to Max on the speakers.

A loud squawk interrupts him. The crow appears high above in the rafters and circles around, making a general nuisance of himself. Max begins trying to shoot it every time it squawks or flaps its wings too loudly but he doesn't have much luck this time. In fact he only succeeds in destroying a few of the lights.

"It's making you take out the lights, just ignore the bird!" shouts Snowy.

"Maybe if you had a brain in that ugly little melon of yours you'd have figured it out. We can't kill her without killing the fucking crow first!"

"What?!" replies a confused Snowy. "Ack! Get..."

Muffled feedback. Some kind of commotion is going on up in the lighting studio.

Angelica slowly crawls around the seating area, trying to get behind Max who is still preoccupied with shooting the crow. She glances up at the studio window and notices her ally beating the hell out of Snowy.

MoJo had managed to get his arms free from the crudely tied rope around his body while Snowy was distracted by the light controls. A surprise blow to the back of his head was enough to put him out of action, but this was now personal. MoJo finally has the opportunity to take out all his anger and frustration on this gang of reprobates...or take it out on Snowy at least. He grabs the now unconscious man's head and repeatedly bangs it against the window with as much strength as his body will grant him. Snowy's bloodied, almost unrecognisable face finally smashes through the shattered window. MoJo then grabs his legs and lifts the whole body through the window.

The corpse comes crashing down into the arena, just barely missing Max.

"I'm hearing that sound a lot lately," remarks Max nonchalantly.

"Now the light's on you, motherfucker!" taunts MoJo over the Tannoy.

The few lights that haven't yet been destroyed by Max begin to form one big spotlight on the blind man who is, of course, completely unaffected and unaware of it. As soon as he hears MoJo's voice he immediately fires both guns at the nearest speaker that the voice emanated from. Some discordant feedback echoes in response. Another two bullets fired just to make sure and the speaker is toast. Just one speaker still remains functional at the other side of the arena, unknown to Max, and to MoJo for that matter.

"MoJo! You little nigger, you've finally grown up! Took you long enough!"

Max anxiously waits for a response to see if the Tannoy is still working. Sure enough, MoJo is happy to keep the chat going, not realising what Max is up to. Angelica, in the mean time, has slowly crawled back into the arena, careful not to make a sound.

"You've been marked for death, Max. Your ass is going to...!" he yells, getting a little too excited considering the situation. The end of his derision is replaced by more screeching feedback and then silence. Despite repeated, frustrating attempts on the microphone, MoJo cannot be heard in the arena. The sound system is truly dead.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters to himself. All he can do now is watch the show from above, powerless to help his friend.

These distractions have allowed Angelica to creep half way across the arena without Max noticing. Having been on her hands and knees, she now rises up on to her feet. Like a serpent about to strike, she raises her arms up and wide, hands like claws about to gut their pray.

Just at that moment the crow gives a mighty squawk from above. As quick as lightning, Max fires one of his guns upwards. Another squawk, but this time sounding more like a cry than a taunt. The crow falls to the floor with a slight thud, directly between the two adversaries.

"Ahh, now that sounds good! Ha haarrr!" Max yells in celebration.

The crow's pain is shared with Angelica, as if someone had just thrust a spear through her heart and yanked it out again. She can't help but give out a cry.

Max pounces on this with rapidity, firing both guns directly forward, the bullets hitting Angelica directly in the chest. She screams again before throwing herself back over the barrier to the seating area.

"Bloody...useless...crow," splutters Angelica as she begins crawling slowly and silently along the side of the arena.

Her injuries now seem to be affecting her as if she were alive, as if she were mortal. Two gunshot wounds to the chest, enough to put a cramp on anyone's day. Still, all she needs to do is kill Max and it's over. Her resurrection was only ever a temporary thing. She was never going to be sticking around once this was over. It doesn't matter what happens to her, as long as she has vengeance on the one man left alive who violated and murdered her, the ringleader who orchestrated the ordeal.

She raises her head and takes a quick peek at the arena, the crow still lying there, Max poised to shoot at the slightest noise.

Glancing up at the studio, she notices MoJo is still there at the window, eyes locked on Max. He isn't looking too good himself. She can't rely on him now, that would be unfair. He's already done enough. He's even killed Snowy! No, she's going to have to settle this on her own. Somehow...

"Come on! Let's finish it! What are you waiting for?!" Max's voice thunders across the arena.

This rude awakening allows Angelica to get her bearings again. She had almost lost consciousness due to her wounds. Becoming delirious, it is everything she can do to keep her eyes open. She manages to pop her head up and take another peek at the arena. Max is walking to the other side in search of her. The crow, on the other hand...is gone.

Angelica closes her eyes and mutters quietly to herself some sort of chant. She doesn't know what she's saying but finds that she can now see through the crows eyes. It is aloft, perched in the rafters again, all eyes on Max below. He doesn't seem to be aware of the crows resurrection.

"You were much quieter this time, well done. You're finally learning," she sneers.

The crow gives a contemptible squawk.

Angelica suddenly begins to feel a new lease of life. Her wounds have completely healed. She is back to her supernatural best.

She leaps over the barrier back into the arena and slides to a standstill. The noise is barely audible from the other side but still loud enough to be detected by Max's enhanced hearing ability. Two bullets go flying straight in Angelica's direction. She falls backwards and ends up in the crab position, hands arched over onto the ground, the bullets just missing her chest.

She kicks her legs up and holds them in the air, now walking on her hands, managing to sneak a few quiet hand steps towards Max before bringing her legs down again. The crow swoops behind him and gives a loud squawk, muffling out the sound of her landing, before darting back up again. Another two bullets just miss the kamikaze bird.

"Ahhh, you're back! That fucking bird just won't stay dead. And neither will you, it would seem."

Angelica does a silent cart-wheel to get a few more yards nearer to Max then drops to her knees. Another two bullets whiz by. Too close for comfort, she felt one of them this time. She takes off her hat and examines the new hole through the middle of it. She looks slightly annoyed, but then gets an idea. She throws her hat into the air like a Frisbee, just veering off to the right of the blind man.

Max can feel the change in the air more than any sound and shoots at the hat, giving it two more holes. This time his body language is different, more jumpy and afraid. He knows she is getting closer and closer and there is nothing he can do about it. Even for someone as skilled as him, he is no match against this relentless angel of death. There is a certain inevitability about his demise and he has almost begun to accept it.

During the sound of the gunfire, Angelica makes a quick dart to the left and rolls down onto the floor. She is now finally within grabbing distance.

"It's not a fair fight, ya know? All this returning from the dead bullshit. This crap with the crow. I just can't win. It just ain't fair," explains Max, sounding like he's reciting his own eulogy.

To Angelica's surprise Max drops his revolvers and holds his arms up, now resigned to his inevitable death. She wastes no time in seizing this opportunity and skates up behind him, grabbing his arms and apprehending him. Coming face to face, Angelica scowls at him with vehement hatred.

"Fair? FAIR?! Was it fair what you did to me? Was that FAIR?!" she shouts into his face, impassioned with sheer rancor.

Remaining cold and indifferent to her intimidation, Max returns her stare, almost looking as if he can actually see her face through his clear, blind eyes. He smiles.

"You're taking all this rape and murder thing so personally. You're not the first it's happened to. And you weren't the last," Max remarks casually.

"It's not about the who. It's about the why," she replies as she pulls him closer to her face, "Have you no remorse whatsoever?"

"Remorse? Ha! That would imply that I had a choice. None of us have had a choice in this. In anything we do. I'm not going to apologise for being the man I am. I was made this way. I had no say in it, just like you. Like I said earlier, we're all victims here. Victims of our own existence. Victims of the tyranny of life. So no, I have no remorse. What I do have is a yearning, a desire to die! So come on, get on with it! Set me free! Give me total liberation!" declares Max passionately.

"Quite the philosopher behind all that gangsta, thug-life act. Such a shame you wasted your talents. Whether you're a victim or not, the fact remains that the world will be a better place without you. That's a priceless nugget of truth for you to think about. You have five seconds."

Max genuinely looks deep in thought as if Angelica actually touched a nerve.

Precisely five seconds later, she strikes. Forcing her thumbs through his eyes, she digs as deep as her digits will allow. Max had been expecting this and despite bracing himself for it, it is still sheer agony. He can't help but scream out as his frontal lobes are penetrated. Angelica lifts him up by his head, thumbs still deep within his skull. She finally allows all her anger and hatred to gush forth from every bone in her body. The now horrific screams only enhance the experience. Her trance-like state is suddenly broken by a wave of guilt. The realization that she is taking pleasure from the pain and suffering of another. She suddenly feels sick and ashamed. This must end now.

The angel of death twists the man's head sharply to the side, snapping his neck instantly. The lifeless corpse dangles in the air, held out by her impossibly straight arms. Another feat of strength that no mortal could achieve.

The crow swoops down and gives a mighty squawk, almost as if to say hurry up and end this. Her hands release and the body falls to the ground with a dull thump. She remains frozen in that position for a moment, deep in thought. It is over. No more does she feel the overwhelming desire for vengeance. No more anger or hatred can be found within her body or soul. Only a satisfying and long-overdue peace.

Completely at odds with the tension of the situation just moments ago, she casually picks up her hat and flips it onto her head. The crow flies over and perches on her shoulder.

"What? I think the bullet holes give it character!" she justifies to the crow.

Heading up to the lighting studio, Angelica meets a battered and bruised MoJo making his way slowly down the stairs.

"Hey Mo! Fancy meeting you here,"she jokes. "You OK?"

"I've been better. But I'll live," he grumbles as he struggles down the steps. "Is that it, then? It's all over?"

Angelica puts her arm around him and helps him down and out of the arena.

"Yep, it's definitely all over. I can feel it. Peace at long last. It feels quite good, you know?"

MoJo laughs at her overly-casual attitude and shakes his head.

"Hope I can feel like that some day. Think I've got a long way to go," he sighs.

"Don't put yourself down, Mo. You did good. Thank you for everything, I mean it, seriously. I'm not sure I could have done this without you".

"I didn't really do nuthin', he says dismissively. "But it's been an experience. Older and wiser after the ordeal and all that shit?"

Angelica laughs heartily for the first time in over a year. Finally she can feel emotions without the darkness, without the cynicism that had been plaguing her for so long.

As they enter the main street Angelica stops. It's time to say goodbye.

"This is the end, Mo. Time to part ways. The other side beckons."

"Yeah, I had a feeling it was. Sorry to see you go, girl. Things are gonna be quite dull without you around," croaks MoJo before coughing out loud.

"Promise me you'll see a doctor. Make sure it's nothing serious."

"Yeah, yeah. I will do, mom."

The two of them hug before Angelica steps back, grins, spins around and darts down the street. Mojo keeps looking at her until she is out of sight, then chuckles to himself while shaking his head. This life-changing experience will have a profound effect on the young man. Something he will never forget.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Angelica has been busy re-digging her recently filled grave, the still pristine coffin lies at the bottom. She climbs out of the hole, takes off her hat and throws it into the grave. She does the same with her coat and gloves and takes off her dress. Underneath, she is still wearing her white gown that she was originally buried in. She sets the dress alight using a lighter before dropping it into the hole. Watching the dancing flames grow until they become quite the fire, she then places herself in front of the grave, facing away from the tombstone. The crow sits atop the cenotaph, as if it is the master of ceremonies conducting this little ritual. Angelica takes one last look at the bird, one last goodbye, one last thank you for the gift it had given her, the ability for her soul to now rest in peace for all eternity.

The Angel of death crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes staring dead ahead, gazing into infinity. She slowly raises her head up and falls backwards into the grave. The flames roar up as her body plummets into the heart of the inferno, but there are no screams. The crow flies up to escape the blazing inferno that continues to snatch at the air, and finds a comfortable place to perch on the branch of a nearby tree. It remains there for hours, watching until the very last flame dies out and the grave returns to its cold, eerie silence. Only then does the bird leave the branch, satisfied that Angelica's soul has passed on back to where it came.

The crow flies off into the night, perhaps in search of one more of the myriad of restless souls crying out for the chance to put things right.


End file.
